


Light in a World So Cold

by krisherdown



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, M/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krisherdown/pseuds/krisherdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy was supposed to be catching an early flight for the exhibition in Abu Dhabi not… whenever in the universe this is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunday Morning - December 22, 2013

**Author's Note:**

> Starting a Christmas-themed series after Christmas is asking for trouble but it was inspired by Judy calling these two "Christmas Crackers" and posting pics of their practice session on Christmas Day. 
> 
> Title from "Beautiful Life" by James Morrison

Andy wakes up and it doesn’t take long to note that something is off. For starters, he doesn’t recognize this bedroom. He’d fallen asleep in Miami but this room doesn’t resemble the summer-all-year style of his place so much as what his Surrey home looks like in November. He didn’t travel to England, this is definitely not his Surrey home, and this is not November.

"Wake up, loser," Jamie calls out from outside the room. "Or else your bacon will get cold."

He looks down at the crocheted quilt covering him, recognizing it as homemade but not knowing the source. He gets out of bed and looks around. It’s sparsely decorated but does have a lamp on a coffee table, a dresser, mirror and a vase filled with artificial lilacs. It appears to be a guest room but he doesn’t remember Jamie’s current place having _any_ room this empty. There are slippers and a bathrobe by the door, a glass of water and aspirin next to the lamp and a headache that likely won’t go away any time soon.

Andy follows the scent in order to find the kitchen. Even though the room he’d been in was light on work, everything else in the house appears as if Christmas has exploded in here, bringing clarity to the song "Deck the Halls". There is so much red and green, silvery sparkly stuff that wouldn’t have even appeared in his childhood home.

A tall, pale-skinned woman with curly blond hair and ornament earrings is at the stove making what smells suspiciously like corned beef hash. Jamie leans his chin on the woman’s shoulder as if observing her cooking skill but the hands on her waist tell a more intimate story. A redheaded boy with a roundish face no older than four is tapping his spoon against the glass filled with orange juice, using angles so it produces different notes. 

Jamie doesn't, by initial glance, look any different from when Andy saw him a few weeks ago in London.  Even with that in mind, nothing about the scene in front of him looks right, starting with the fact this woman doesn't in any way resemble Jamie's lovely wife Alejandra.

"Don’t play with your food, Brayden," the woman scolds, tapping the spatula against the pan to both break up the meat and capture the kid’s attention. Andy tries to figure out the accent – her voice sort of reminds him of Andy Roddick when he lays on the sarcasm. She sounds like she serves food from a truck stop on Route 66 – total Americana.

"Yes, mum." Brayden looks up at the ceiling, feigning innocence. Jamie fondly glances over at the boy, shaking his head while chuckling. Andy feels like he’s watching his father’s home videos of them as kids but touched up with current color. Minus the fact there would have been a Littler Brother Andy to make fun of Younger Jamie’s act.

It’s as Andy is about to speak up from his spot in the doorway that Brayden spots him. The kid eagerly jumps down from the chair and races over to Andy’s leg. "Merry Kistmas, Uncle Andy."

Jamie gently reminds the boy, "Kis… I mean, Christmas, isn’t for another three days. Uncle Andy was out late last night so keep the volume down." He gives Andy a once-over and mutters, "At least you don’t appear to be hungover."

Andy looks around the room, not sure what was going on. The blonde points toward the table, her voice having a bite when she says, "Sit down. I know you don’t eat hash but the bacon, eggs and potatoes are done. Help yourself. Hon, can you set Bray’s plate?"

Jamie gives her a kiss on the neck, then mumbles, "Sure, Kimmie." Andy has just sat down at the table but raises an eyebrow at the name, remembering how his Kim would literally shirk away the moment anyone tried giving her that nickname. Other than hair color, this Kimmie lady has little in common with that Kim.

He has a fork full of eggs about to touch his mouth when he gets a horrifying thought: has he woken up in a world he’s even _met_ Kim? Last night, he fell asleep in bed with her working on a painting in the next room. He was reasonably confident she did eventually join him in bed, feeling that weight on the other side of the bed as he fell into slumber. He was supposed to head for a flight toward Abu Dhabi.

Brayden is the only one to notice something amiss. "Is ev’thing okay with the food?" The kid looks warily at his own plate.

There is something definitely wrong but he doesn’t want to worry the others. Andy covers by saying, "I realized just in time I should wait for everyone to sit down before eating."

Jamie lets out a loud sniffing sound but otherwise bites his tongue before starting any further discussion. It’s totally not like Jamie to be quiet when it comes to an issue between brothers but Andy can understand not wanting to scar a kid’s ears.

Andy asks, "Do you mind if I use your computer after breakfast?" He desperately needs more information about this particular world without saying the wrong thing… at least until he figures out where he left his phone or tablet.

"Sure. I’m taking Brayden to see our mum give tennis lessons to other students. Maybe it’ll convince him to finally hold a racquet."

Okay, this is a language Andy can understand. First thing that’s made sense so far today even though Jamie seems oddly hesitant. "Sure. I mean, she schooled us well."

"Really? Okay then. Well, I have the parental controls so, you know, be careful. I know you’re hard up but…sorry, yeah."

* * * * *

Andy keeps quiet during breakfast, to the extent that Jamie looks even more worried for him but doesn’t want to speak up. Kimmie makes sure to wait for everyone to finish eating before she rushes to another room. She soon reappears in a white pressed shirt and black trousers then kisses both Brayden and Jamie on the cheek before rushing out the door.

Jamie waits for Brayden to wash his hands and head into another room to watch Sesame Street, then says, "What did you take last night?"

Given that the "last night" he remembers involves a smoothie which involved at least carrots, blueberries and kale instead of whatever Jamie is implying, Andy can truthfully say, "Don’t remember."

He squints as if trying to read something in Andy’s eyes. "You don’t _appear_ to be drunk. Pills? I don’t know why you do this to yourself. Every single time he calls, you get pissed at a bar then pass out on the couch so I have to drag you to your room before anyone else wakes up. You know I wouldn’t care if you actually met a guy that you stuck with for more than a month… and one who travels the world and has you hanging by a string does not count."

Andy has never said anything about indecent thoughts he’s had about guys to his brother. Everything he’s ever spoken has been about women, and specifically a different Kimberly, since he was eighteen years old. Clearly he’d gotten to the point where he was comfortable enough to at least tell _someone._ He doesn’t believe he’s lived with Jamie and his family all that long but there has to be stuff of his somewhere, or at least pictures with this jetsetter. He’s got to get to the computer as soon as possible before others think he should be committed. He opts to say, "I’ll be okay. Just need…"

"Just need to know where in the world he was when he called you. Don’t Skype with him because there will be no cyber sex of any kind happening in that chair."

"That’s…" probably sadly accurate, if Andy had any clue what the hell is going on. "I promise I won’t do or look for anything indecent in your home."

"Thank you very much. The computer is all yours."

* * * * *

Andy wanders around Jamie’s place as he waits for Jamie to get Brayden bundled up for the snowy conditions outside. He needs clues to help settle into… whatever has happened for him to land here.

The first significant clue is the painting in the hallway of Jamie and Kimmie as they’d have looked getting married. Jamie’s hair was a growing-out buzz cut while Kimmie’s hair had tendrils framing her face, appearing softer than the hard-nosed waitress he’d just met this morning. Andy has seen the same jacket and kilt from when Jamie married Alejandra… it seems bizarre that she isn’t the wife in this shot, Andy realizes belatedly.

There’s something familiar about the style of the painting so Andy carefully studies for a clue… and then he spots the K.S. signature. It makes him feel oddly assured that the Kim in this world is pursuing art and somehow crossed paths with the Murray family at least once. Even though it seems the Kim in this world was not currently with the Andy in this world (and possibly never was).

Andy can sense that Jamie is watching him from the doorway and tries not to look his way to see what type of look is on his face. Jamie says softly, "I am sorry, for what it’s worth."

"About?"

"I know this isn’t how you imagined your life when we were kids. You always saw yourself as a champion but your body refused to cooperate. You weren’t meant to stay in Dunblane and go to university but you did. That was a total waste and you lost your way so you ended up plopping here in London. I want you to find someone that makes you happy as I have with Kimmie. It’s not going to happen as long as you keep waiting for Novak to choose you."

That feels a lot closer to reality than anything else that’s happened so far today. Andy is thankful Brayden appears at that point to distract his father, giving him a chance to turn away from a brother’s knowing stare.


	2. Sunday Afternoon, December 22, 2013

 

Andy waits for Jamie to stop rushing back due to forgetting something before venturing into the study. He starts up the computer then looks around. There are various football and tennis trophies, including the Wimbledon mixed doubles replica plate. Andy is ridiculously relieved that this vision didn’t end up taking away Jamie’s biggest career moment.

There is a framed diploma from New York University on the wall with the name _Kimberlie Nicole Chase._ The degree was issued in 2007 in the field of Business.

When the computer finally reaches finishes start-up, the desktop completes the story. It’s a picture of Jamie, Kimmie and Brayden in front of the Cromlix House Hotel. The place where Jamie had married Alejandra, the one Andy had invested in order to save the place. Based on how quickly kids Brayden’s age grow up and the snow in the background, it appeared to be taken in the past two months. This meant that the place had likely been saved by someone after all.

Andy sits down at the computer, deciding the best search tactic. He can’t bring himself to type his own name in the search engine so he begins with news about the hotel. It automatically fills his search with "restaurant" at the end of the title – meaning that Jamie or Kimmie have searched this phrase recently.

What appears is an ad for a diner called _New York Special_ that just opened its second location outside the newly-restored Cromlix… and has a photo of the diner's owners Jamie and Kimmie cutting the proverbial red ribbon. Based on the time of year (nearly time to head to other side of the world) and the morning meal, Andy would guess that Jamie isn’t on tour anymore or else he’d be either aiming for match fitness or rehabilitation.

The website does mention that Jamie was a former ATP tennis player and provides a link so Andy heads there next so it at least gets him out of random Google searching. As he suspected, Jamie last played professionally three years ago. It does mention that Jamie has a brother Andrew who won the boys US Open – just the fact it uses Andy’s given name seems like a clue unto itself.

So Andy did play tennis at a high level, at least in juniors. It takes a good few minutes for Andy to give in and type his own name in the ATP site. There’s no picture and it states that Andy played two matches (a blowout loss and retirement after being down 0-4 in Futures in Spain) in 2005, none after that. The ITF site has everything Andy remembers from juniors up to 2004, including that US Open title.

He returns to the Google page and relents by typing in his own name and getting nowhere. Remembers now to type in "Andrew" instead of "Andy"... then adding "tennis"… then adding "British" before it finally yields results that are useful. It paints a bleak picture:

February 2005: _Reigning US Open Boys Champ to have knee surgery; will be out three months._

August 2005: _Setback for Andrew Murray, will need second surgery._

June 2006: _British prospect Murray has third surgery on knee, pro career in doubt._ _  
_

June 2007: _Tim Henman less than hopeful about future of British tennis once he retires._

July 2007: _Jamie Murray wins Wimbledon but there’s a notable absence in stands._

That last one makes him absolutely sick to his stomach but Andy clicks on it anyway, needing to confirm suspicions. The article doesn’t make it any better.

_You may remember that Jamie Murray wasn’t supposed to be the Grand Slam champion in this family. After all, it was his younger brother Andrew who won the US Open juniors title back in 2004. Many great things were expected from Andrew._

_The last time Andrew was seen around a tennis court, he was engaging in a shouting match with big brother as Great Britain played a Davis Cup tie earlier this year. Relations appear to still be strained between the brothers, if the tight way Jamie responds to questions about Andrew is any indication. Rumor has it Andrew will be attending university in the fall, his tennis career nothing more than a faded memory._

Andy goes back to the ATP site, clicking on the Standings tab. Rafa number one, Novak number two then a large gap in points before Ferrer number three. So Novak _was_ a jetsetting tennis player, still pursuing his dream of winning a bucket full of majors – and probably about to land in Abu Dhabi for the exhibition Andy presumed this morning he’d be playing.

Andy hadn’t seen Novak since the US Open. More significantly, Andy hadn’t seen or spoken to Novak since Novak announced his engagement to Jelena. He sent a light-hearted text congratulating the pair, after having erased the message numerous times to keep any possible bitterness out.  Andy wasn’t sure he could lie to Novak’s face about his feelings on the engagement.

Before he even has a chance to reconsider, Andy types in "Novak Djokovic engagement". The first hit says all Andy could ever want to know:

December 17, 2013: _Novak Djokovic, Jelena Ristic announce break up._

Andy clicks on the link, which has the requisite information about their history that would have been true even in the other world.  It's the last paragraph which throws him off:

_While Jelena Ristic will stay a part of the Novak Djokovic Foundation, her personal relationship with its founder has fizzled of late.  Djokovic, who had once considered playing for Great Britain, has been seen in by the British tabloids alone in England quite a bit in the last year as well as recently buying a home in Surrey.  Speculation is that Djokovic is intending to pursue sponsorship deals with several British companies as well as aiding in helping upstart British players._ _  
_

Andy has been sitting there for a very long time when Jamie startles him, sitting down in the other chair. Jamie takes one look at the screen then silently moves Andy’s head toward his shoulder, muttering, "You have to stop beating yourself up."

"But he…"  
  
"I admit I’m quite surprised he did that.  But he did and now it’s your move."

"I… I don’t know what to do."

"You’d better stop putting off your Christmas shopping."

Andy tries to chuckle at that information but his voice is caught in his throat.  Even in the other world, he just wasn't good when it came to shopping for gifts.  Now sitting here in silence with his brother, Andy knows he's a screw-up in this universe... yet Jamie is inexplicably here for him anyway.  "Jamie, tell me the truth. How badly have I fucked up over the years?"

"Huh?" Andy buries his face in Jamie’s shoulder, which causes Jamie to flinch before settling in. "Okay, do you mean regarding Novak?"  
  
"Everything."  
  
"Novak invited you to be his hitting partner two years ago but your knee acted up again.  Due to the way you told him, Novak took it as a personal slight and you two fought like crazy. That’s when he and Jelena decided to act more like a public couple and you decided you unequivocally hated everything about tennis. You threw out nearly everything you had remotely related to sports, which really hurt everyone in the family."

"Everything hurts." That’s at least the total truth. Even though his main issue prior to today was recovering from back surgery, the knee is always an issue and doing the December training means pain is inevitable. But if he was so disgusted that he actually tossed everything regarding tennis in the garbage, he had to have hit rock bottom.

"I know but you can’t dull that with the partying and various pills. That would be the first step toward having Novak see he’s making the right decision."

Even though Andy still hasn’t figured why he’s where he is, he can still say, "I want to be worthy."


	3. Sunday Evening, December 22, 2013

"Hey, Andy. You left your phone in my car," Kimmie says upon walking in from work. Andy is standing at the counter, snacking on a granola bar. "Someone has been really trying to get a hold of you." She sets down the bags of food and tosses Andy the phone, which he barely catches. She turns around and yells out, "Boys! Dinner’s here. Turkey and stuffing!" quickly followed by the pattering of little feet as bigger arms try to slow Brayden down.

Andy looks at the missed calls. There are 21 missed calls from "Nole" over the last few days as well as five voicemail messages from that same number. He nods then pockets the phone, trying to resist the urge to find out further details until after dinner.

Jamie points Brayden toward the bathroom to wash his hands, then kisses Kimmie on the cheek and mutters, "Did I hear stuffing? As in, your mother’s stuffing?"

"It might be hers," Kimmie smiling up at Jamie as she says that.

"You know I don’t get the deal with Americans and Thanksgiving but I understand walnuts and apples and mushrooms mixed with day-old bread and whatever seasoning combination you use but refuse to reveal to anyone outside of our head chef."

Andy’s fingers twitch as they desperately want to check the messages. He tries to pay attention as Brayden is now excitedly telling everyone about his visit to Grandma’s. What he’s actually hearing is Novak in his head, wondering how different his voice sounds in this universe.

He is pulled out of these thoughts when Brayden says, "Grandma had me holding a wooden racquet. It looked so small."

Jamie smiles brightly toward Kimmie, then says to Brayden, "Really? Do you know she used that racquet when she was a kid?"

"Uh huh. She said she used bad-min-ton," looking toward Jamie, who nods regarding the correct pronunciation of the unfamiliar word, "racquets to teach you and Uncle Andy."

"It was a lot safer with the birdie than having a tennis ball bouncing around the living room."

Brayden looks toward Andy and says, "I saw a photo of you holding a big trophy. It was as shiny as Daddy’s."

Jamie replies, "Yeah, he won that at the US Open," then makes a worried glance toward Andy. Right, because _this_ version of him has issues regarding tennis.

"Near Nana and Poppy?" Andy presuming in reference to Kimmie’s parents.

"Yup. Down the block from that huuuuge tennis center."

Kimmie chimes in, "Aaaand where my beloved Mets play."

Jamie laughs, then says sarcastically, "Oh yes. We cannot forget about baseball."

"Hey! You love a soccer team that never wins. In comparison, I have better taste."

"Okay, one, it’s football not soccer. Two," pointing an accusatory finger toward Kimmie but his voice is teasing, "never diss the Hibs."

Andy smiles at Jamie’s reaction because at least that still sounds right. He admits he’s thankful for the change of subject as he has no idea how to even talk about disliking the sport that has, in reality, brought so much to his life as well as fulfilled the hopes and dreams of an entire nation. He hasn’t figured out why he’s actually in this universe but maybe he’s meant to bring love of the game back into this person’s head.

If he’s still here and not on a plane when he wakes up tomorrow morning, he’s heading over to the tennis academy. He needs to awaken the spirit in his other version.

* * * * *

Andy’s edginess about the messages dissipates as the family dinner goes on. Now that he has a goal in mind, should he still be in England when he wakes up tomorrow morning, he’s able to momentarily forget about Novak. After all, he doesn’t actually know a world where he _has_ Novak so it’s easier to not think about all those missed calls and messages.

Once he’s away from other conversations and lying on his bed, however, the phone cannot be ignored any longer. He puts the phone on speaker as he listens to the messages.

First message: _Hi Andy. It’s me… I don’t know if you’ve heard yet but I broke up with Jelena. Call me back._

Andy stops the recording to process the information now that he’s hearing it from Novak’s own mouth. While Novak sounds initially rather assured, there’s a hint of cautiousness on the final sentence, as if unsure the news means much to Andy. It seems rather odd if they are in fact a couple but at least Andy can equate this with reality, if Novak actually broke up with Jelena instead of going through with wedding plans.

Second message (left after the sixth call): _Hi Andy. I hope this is just because you lost your phone again [long pauses]…just call._

There’s an easy familiarity with this message, one Andy has heard many, many times from Novak. Andy realizes he’s waiting for something to sound different about this Novak even though he is still one of the best players in the world.

Third message (left after the eleventh call): _Please Andy. Don’t be mad at me. I cannot take this silence from you. It’s been thirty four hours and I’ve been fielding all these questions and it’d be so much easier if I at least heard your voice._

The smile from the previous message is a distant memory, as Andy shuts his eyes and struggles not to feel the pain in Novak’s voice from that message. He keeps the messages playing despite himself.

Fourth message (left after the fourteenth call): _I need you to know this because it bears repeating and you can be so stubborn. It’s always been you. I don’t know why._

Fifth message (left after the twenty-first and final phone call): _You have to be so difficult about everything always, Andy. Fine. You know what? I shouldn’t be declaring matters of love over the phone anyway. I’m making a big deal out of nothing. It’s just…_

No more messages.

Andy doesn’t even realize how much he’s reacting to these messages when Brayden jumps onto his bed, then stops. He sits down and says, "I don’t like you looking sad."

"It’s been… a rough day."

"Dad told me I shouldn’t talk about tennis to you. It hurts you too much. I don’t want that."

Andy shakes his head, hating that even a kid this young can sense pain, even if the cause is wrong. "It’s not about tennis. You don’t need to avoid topics with me. I just got… a distressing message."

"Oh." Brayden stares at his glow-in-the-dark sneakers, then asks, "What does dis-tressing mean?"

"It means sad. I want to answer this message but it’s too late to reply." Even as he says so, Andy’s finger is on the call button. Novak is many time zones away preparing for Abu Dhabi - where it’s the middle of the night, if Andy remembers correctly.

"Get courage. That’s what Dad says when I’m afraid. G’night, Uncle Andy," then heads out of the bedroom.

Andy has time to figure out how to deal with a panicky Serbian who likely didn’t inform Andy-in-this-universe about breaking up with Jelena until the press release. His initial plan had been to try to bring tennis back into this version of him’s life and that’s a much easier mission to handle.

He might wake up tomorrow on a plane heading right toward Novak… in a world where Novak is still engaged to Jelena... and Andy stuck reliving Novak’s words in his head. He’s no longer so certain what he’d prefer in the morning.


	4. Monday, December 23, 2013

While Andy hadn’t been sure what to expect upon waking up, hearing Brayden throwing a fit makes it clear before even opening his eyes. Andy pulls the quilt over his head, hating today already.

He waits for the noise to die down in the house before daring to grab his phone off the dresser. It’s fortunate there are no missed phone calls or messages declaring any form of love to distract him from looking up addresses for nearby tennis academies. He finds the indoor facility he attended in his younger years, then figures out how to get there using public transportation.

While aware he didn’t have much in this room, to actually realize there’s no tennis gear of his around is a true shock. He could get away with a t-shirt and sweatpants of his own but the rest won’t work. Andy ventures for Jamie and Kimmie’s room, finding in their closet proper sneakers that were a size too big and a loose bag with two tennis racquets.

There’s still noise going on downstairs – no female voices so Kimmie is likely already at work – so Andy heads back to the guest room and starts stretches. He’s careful when doing lower body work, given he doesn’t know how bad his knee is here. He wouldn’t want to inflict further damage when he has to depart this body – or even more so if he’s forced to stay here forever.

After about twenty minutes, Andy finally hears the car warming up so he gathers everything he needs for a tennis session that’s going to feel unfamiliar.

* * * * *

Andy looks up at a facility he hasn’t visited since he was around sixteen then sits down on a nearby bench to gather himself after dealing with the crowds of people on the bus. He remembers contemplating leaving after a year in Spain that had been great from a tennis perspective but lacking when it came to personal interactions. He wasn’t yet best friends with Carlos or Dani – that would happen when he returned from this trip home – but he wasn’t so much homesick as general loneliness.

He had been corresponding with Novak during that time. They’d exchanged e-mails even if it was mostly about sending goofy pics and dirty jokes that could get lost in translation. Even then, Andy was envious of how easy Novak could move around or navigate situations. Novak was in Germany having the time of his life hanging around Gulbis while getting in and out of trouble.

Andy wouldn’t have called these feelings for Novak as an actual crush until they were around seventeen. Novak had qualified for his first major on the main level and he was extremely nervous about playing Marat Safin. Andy was recovering from a knee injury so he could stay on the phone with Novak as the Serb worked through his nerves. At the end of the call, Novak asked if he could visit Andy after he was done in Australia. Andy remembers thinking that it could be a meeting that meant something more so he claimed he was visiting family when he totally wasn’t. He assured Novak their paths would cross on tour shortly. It wasn’t until the call was over and the silence filled the room that he realized he was in so much trouble.

The first news headline from yesterday’s research pops in Andy’s head: _Reigning US Open Boys Champ to have knee surgery; will be out three months¸_ dated February 2005. Soon after Novak would have been visiting. That must have been the point when the paths of his life diverged or how ever one would explain what’s going on now.

He takes a deep breath then picks up his belonging before going in to sign up for a court. It seems weird to just walk in without a commotion but that would make sense. It’s rather quiet – not a surprise given everyone else is likely preparing for Christmas – but at least there’s a junior named Mark around who just wants a hit-around until his coach returned.

Mark is maybe thirteen and clearly has no idea of any significance to this meeting. He’s rather hyperactive but is looking to work on net technique so he’s okay with having an "out-of-shape old man" (his words) have a go at passing him. Andy would guess this is something he can still do, even in this physical state, and agrees.

It doesn’t take long for Mark to be impressed. "Wow, man. That’s sweet technique. I’m told I can use help with my hands if I want to be even okay at doubles." He squints, as if trying to figure if he’s been duped then shakes his head. "I was thinking with the accent that maybe you were Jamie Murray but you’re not, right? I’m told he lives in the area but is usually found at the park."

Andy shakes his head but is trying not to laugh.

"You do know who he is," Mark says rudely, as if thinking Andy knows little about tennis. Well, maybe he sort of does when it comes to current events but not that.  
  
"Yeah, I know who he is."

A very familiar voice calls out, "Mark, stop badgering him!" Andy spins around, to come face to face with Kim. Not Kimmie, _his_ Kim. "I’m so sorry about this. I told him Leon would be back shortly but he just can’t sit still."

Andy says, "Quite okay, Kim."  
  
The easy smile she gives back makes it tough to resist not kissing her as a thank you right now. He’d known Kim at least had been in the Murray circle thanks to the portrait and now sees she still has some connection to tennis all these years later. Naturally, she always had a connection thanks to her father but being around the courts means there’s still some significance.

Mark lets out a huff before gathering his belongings, Kim watching every move the boy makes. It allows Andy a chance to see how little is different about her. Same long shiny blonde hair, same fashion sense. No rings, especially on the most important finger.

"Leon asked me to watch the kids until he gets back from a meeting. That’s what I get for daring to visit my dad today, a chance to play babysitter instead. How are you doing, Andy?" then leans in to give a kiss to his cheek which Andy repeats to her.

"Doing okay. Mark being around wasn’t a bad thing. Allowed me a chance to hit with someone, even if only to do drills. I… haven’t played much lately so feared I’d be a bit rusty."

Kim nods, then says, "Yeah, I’ve heard Kimmie gripe about you when I frequent the diner. But I’m glad you’re here asking tennis to forgive you," then starts laughing.

Oh. Well that does put a damper on this conversation. Andy himself might not be close to Kim but it’s likely she’s heard the gossip. "When you’re done babysitting, would you like to get something to eat? _Not_ at my brother’s place is all I ask."

"Sure."

* * * * *

They end up going for coffee at a stand down the block. Andy makes sure to ask Kim how she likes her coffee, catching himself before doing it himself out of habit. It’s rather quiet as the businessmen’s lunch hour has passed. She looks on edge to be around him, which makes sense as Andy isn’t sure how well they know each other here.

"I go to _New York Special_ too much," Kim says suddenly, then starts laughing. "It’s not the best place to try to stay in shape. Kimmie can be persuasive when it comes to her specials."

"I would believe it. Family recipes are quite important."

"I do think it was a great idea to lend the name of this place toward the relaunch of the Cromlix. I went down to that location recently and met your grandmother. Such a doll."

Andy smiles, remembering how his grandma had always loved seeing Kim. Mainly being pleased how Andy found an English woman who was around her height so she didn’t have to crane her neck. "She does love to socialize."

Kim blows over the top of the cup before taking a sip, a method Andy has seen hundreds of times. He knows because he still focuses on her mouth whenever she does that. Kim catches him staring, then grimaces as she looks down and shakes her head.

"Something wrong?"

"It’s just…" Kim sets the cup down, then covers her mouth with her fingers as she admits. "Back when you were in juniors, I had such a crush on you. I kept trying to get up the nerve to ask you out. But then our paths stopped crossing as I did university and you did knee surgery rehab."

Andy smiles, thinking back to the early days of their relationship. "Would’ve been fun to travel the world together."

"Of course. But I’m happy I stayed here. I can’t imagine having that kind of life. The press tracks every Brit who has even a bit of tennis talent so I would’ve been news as well. That sounds horrible."

"Well, if you love the person enough, you deal. Then again, what do I know about the press." Andy makes sure to keep the joke to himself.

"Says the guy who got outed by a one-night stand selling the story to the tabloids."

Andy blinks, harshly being brought back to this reality. Where he’s not only not in love with Kim, she already knows there’s nothing there. "I’d like to think, if in such a situation, the person next to me would be supportive. If I was with someone famous," biting his lip as he realizes that could potentially be true here thanks to Novak, "I wouldn’t care because it’s part of the person I love."

"Thankfully, my love is strictly for my dogs, Maggie May and Rusty. Let them be ridiculously famous in my paintings," then starts laughing in a way that Andy normally loves hearing due to its musicality but hurts regarding those words being about two dogs that actually mean a lot to him. "I love being hired to capture moments on canvas. If it makes me famous, works for me."

Andy nods along, then mutters, "You did a great job with Jamie and Kimmie. Made him look moderately good. No small feat." He’s thankful his voice naturally doesn’t hold much emotion because he’d be so screwed otherwise. "I shouldn’t hold you up much longer. You must be busy getting ready for the holiday."

"I do have last-minute shopping yet to do for my parents. I guess you have to get back toward your tennis comeback."

"Right." Forget this "tennis comeback". He so needs a drink right now, which is a feeling he’s not used to having at all.

* * * * *

It doesn’t take long for Andy to find a pub, even less time to get down to the task of drinking that conversation with Kim away. He doesn’t know much about alcohol but he’s not an athlete here so it hardly matters.

Apparently, even though he doubted he’d have familiarity with this area, this is not the first time he’s visited this particular place. He isn’t there long when the chair next to him is occupied by a guy named Liam who delves right into a conversation about football even though the televisions are showing curling. It’s a debate it sounds like they’ve had before, challenging each other to shots as they rattle off various facts (luckily, the facts haven’t changed so Andy can still show off his footie knowledge).

Liam laughs at him when Andy tries to figure out which buses he needs to get back home. He says, "Bit of a lightweight tonight. You are so completely out of it. Suppose this version is better than the time you kept tugging at my belt buckle because it reminded you of Texas, then wanting to know if everything is truly bigger there. Good thing Candice thinks you’re a corker."

He somehow figures out the proper bus routes and does get back to the house. It is very dark, so dark that he’s fortunate not to stumble over anything in this otherwise unfamiliar house, as he feels his way around until he reaches the guest room.

Andy swears he sees a spiky head of hair bobbing as if woken up just before he plops down on the bed and passes out.

　

 


	5. Tuesday Morning/Afternoon, December 24, 2013

Andy wakes up to a pounding headache and Novak Djokovic hovering by the bed with a glass of water by his side.

"Good morning," Novak sing-songs as a greeting, attempting to sound chipper but falling short of the mark. When he realizes that, he says soothingly in barely above a whisper, "You had quite a night."

Andy shuts his eyes, claiming it’s about the blinding sun and not the guy whose green eyes are looking quite worried. "Novak? Aren’t you supposed to be in Abu Dhabi?"

Novak folds up a wet towel and puts it to Andy’s forehead. "Yeah, but some things are more important. I didn’t hear from you and was freaking out. Marian said I was useless on the court until this was resolved. Besides, it’s just an exhibition. They’ll probably ask Ferrer to replace me."

"Sorry to mess up your plans."

"Please don’t apologize. I should have let you know before the press release." Novak nudges Andy over so he can sit on the edge of the bed, then lifts Andy’s shoulder. "Come on. Sit up so you can take the aspirin."

Andy leans into Novak’s hip as he carefully raises his body, it feeling like a lead weight. Novak wraps an arm around Andy to help him the rest of the way then holds out his palm with the aspirin. Andy obliges then takes the glass, his stomach feeling as restless as his brain at the moment.

"That’s good," then Novak moves the towel off the rest of Andy’s face and kisses his forehead, his mouth lingering there as he whispers against skin, "Would rather kiss you properly right now but I’m not keen on tasting whatever crappy whisky you drank last night."

Andy freezes up, not sure what to do about this piece of information. This intimate contact, combined with the promise of even more intimate contact, has never existed for him with Novak before. Novak has always been liberal with hugs but Andy is now seeing those touches in a different light.

Novak does eventually sense Andy’s silence is not due to being comfortable and leans away. "This is okay, right? I realize I was taking a chance…"

Andy bolts upright and says, "I have to head to the bathroom," and rushes out of the room. He slams the door shut and sits on the tile, leaning against the wall until his stomach settles. Andy knows he’s a lightweight as a drinker but he’s pretty sure that has nothing to do with anything he’s feeling right now. He takes deep breaths, counting until his heart stops racing.

The door slowly opens and Novak takes careful steps into the room. He’s staring at the ground but away from Andy when he says, "I shouldn’t assume you feel the same way about me. I wanted any doubts to be gone when I say I love you. I mean it every time I say it to you but I guess it’d gotten confusing when Jelena was still acting as my girlfriend. It’s always been you for me. I knew that as soon as I made the decision to visit you as a seventeen year old leaving the Australian Open. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t let me come see you."

Andy shuts his eyes, having a very vivid picture of exactly what he actually did to Novak. He said no then. He’d denied himself the chance to hear Novak because he couldn’t bear to deal with his own feelings. Finally, he ekes out a question, "How would this even work?"

Novak gives a soft smile, then sits next to Andy on the floor and rests a hand so that his pinkie grazes Andy’s. "What I’d really like is if you joined me on tour as a hitting partner."  
  
Andy is about to say yes when he remembers Jamie talking about their argument from two years ago. "I don’t know. My knee…"

"You loved being around the tour. You don’t want to be here." Andy hesitantly nods along. Novak leans against Andy’s shoulder as he says gently, "I’m not saying this has to be a regular gig. You have a brain for analyzing matches and you’re still likely better at net than me. So… you’d be an asset even in an official capacity, though we both know your role would go way beyond…" then interrupts his own sentence with a kiss to his cheek. "I had to make a statement to get through to you."

This should be awkward. It _should_ but it feels as right as when Kim would in the world Andy had known before. Andy moves his hand so it covers over Novak’s fingers. "How long do I have to decide?"

"I have to leave tomorrow evening but the offer doesn’t expire." Novak pauses to give a hopeful look, then asks, "Does your family do its celebrating on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day?"

Andy has to think about this, as he’s not used to being home for the holidays. Which day does his mum complain about not seeing her boys? "Eve. Kimmie prefers having the diner open for lunch and dinner on Christmas Day."

"When Jamie let me in, he made it clear that, if you didn’t immediately throw me out, I was required to spend a meal with the family. He claims his look can kill so, if I truly survive to the end, it’s his version of a blessing." Novak tilts his head, egging on, "Come on, Andy. Isn’t that at least worthy of a little bit of a smile from you?"

Andy puts on an exaggerated smile then resorts back to a blank look. "Does that work for you?"

"It will for now. While I’m in town, I promised I would meet your old buddy Ross about his fundraiser. I will be back later. Hopefully you’ll get over this hangover and resort back to being a living, breathing human being. See you later." Novak begins to stand up, pauses halfway then mutters, "Screw this," and swoops in to capture Andy’s mouth in a kiss. "There, that’s so much better."  
  
Andy’s head moves forward as Novak pulls away, as if he wanted to chase that mouth he’d never felt on his before. He gets a smile and a wave from Novak before he leaves. He collapses back against the wall, hand instinctively moving to feel for sure that really happened.

If Andy is truly here forever, he doesn’t see any possible reason to decline Novak’s offer. Clearly he’s been wallowing in a near-empty impersonal room in his brother’s home as he’d been struggling to move in any direction. This is counter to anything Andy could’ve ever imagined from his life even if tennis hadn’t worked out. At least venturing back into the tennis community could lead Andy to find what path he was supposed to choose because it’s so not happening here.

If he does leave this dream, he’s likely going to be tortured by the feel of Novak’s lips for the rest of his life until he’s able to relive this moment. He’d have to at least talk to that version of Novak before he went through with marrying Jelena.

It’d been easy to let certain problems in life overwhelm all other aspects. Whether it’d been his health, the weight of a certain ghost that’d finally disappeared, what feelings he’d denied himself regarding Novak, the vision could get clouded.

Satisfied with that conclusion, Andy decides to start his day even though it looks to be near noon. He turns on the water in the shower, the water getting comfortably hot before he undresses and steps in. As he settles under, a sense of calm takes over his mind that’s rather unfamiliar.

* * * * *

Andy spends the afternoon watching parts of the second and third Toy Story movies with Brayden to distract him as Jamie and Kimmie prepare family dinner and the final touches on Christmas gifts from Santa. Brayden has been demonstrating words he can spell using old fashioned wooden logs that have each been markered with a letter so words literally can be built.

There’s a loud buzzing sound around six o’clock, followed by Jamie’s voice getting louder as he walks toward the living room, "This is where all the children stay until dinner. You’ll feel right at home," adding on a smirk once he actually reaches the living room, trailed by Novak.

"Hey! I could help in the kitchen…" Novak making a concerted effort to avoid looking Andy’s way in this moment. Andy pauses the movie, taking in how Novak has cleaned up and is wearing an ugly blinking-lights sweater that fits quite nicely with Jamie’s garish Santa sweater. The two look utterly ridiculous – and Andy knows he has a box sitting nearby of another atrocity he’s yet to look at.

Jamie replies, "Actually, from what I’ve heard, we’re better off if you don’t." He kneels down to his son, who appears to be starstruck. "Brayden, do you remember this man?"

Brayden nods, then says to Novak, "I’ve seen you on TV. You played tennis in London last month against Rafa Nadal. No-lak."  
  
Novak smiles brightly, then crouches down to Brayden’s level. "You’ve gotten so big. I remember when Jamie was still carrying you everywhere." He glances at the television, where it’s frozen on Buzz Lightyear in a dance pose. "Oh. Toy Story! I love these movies. Can I join you?"

"Sure!" Brayden replies excitedly, then rushes over to grab the last word he made with the bricks and shows Novak. "See? I spelled ‘Light’. L-I-G-H-T," pointing to the individual log for each letter.

"Very impressive."

Jamie grins, then instructs, "You have to be cleaned up and ready for dinner in an hour." Pointing to the box, he informs Andy, "You’re not dodging the Christmas sweater this year. I have the right to refuse service to you. If even Novak participated, you have less of an excuse."

When Jamie leaves the three of them alone, Andy watches Brayden begin to relax around someone he considers a celebrity. Andy is about to break the moment to unpause the movie when Brayden asks Novak, "You grew up with my dad and Uncle Andy?"

"I’ve known them for a very long time," Novak says then finally looks Andy’s way, too fondly. "I have to travel so I can’t see them much but I do talk to your Uncle Andy quite a bit," waggling an eyebrow to punctuate that point. Even though Andy doesn’t have first-hand knowledge of what that entails, he knows Novak’s mind well enough to know he can’t go long without throwing in sexual innuendo. It’d have to be a lot worse if they’re actually a couple of any sort. Novak jumps out of the crouch into a standing position, then practically pounces onto the couch next to Andy. "In fact, I can tell you where he is ticklish."  
  
"Novak…" Andy says in a voice he hopes conveys warning.

Novak reaches over to the back of Andy’s neck and trails delicate touches along his shoulder blade. Andy flinches then pushes Novak away before he can really get started. Novak says teasingly, "Aw, come on _dragi_. You’re no fun today."

While Andy doesn’t know how much Serbian he’d have picked up from Novak here, most of his knowledge prior to this is a combination of swear words and teasing terms of endearment. That word he’s heard Novak say towards him before. Andy thought for the longest time it was an insult but then he heard Jelena say it to Novak and got a smile back in response. Andy finally asked Ana Ivanovic one time she was around Kim’s father, who told him it was the equivalent of ‘sweetheart’ and it made Novak sound sickly sweet so Jelena must be blind. The mere fact Andy is hearing that word again directed toward himself, more so than anything else that’s happened since Novak showed up last night, hits him so hard.

"Is something wrong?" Novak asks, then looks down as he mutters, "You’re going to say no to my offer?"

"It’s not…" Andy shuts his eyes, realizing Novak’s concern is probably because Andy looks like he’s going to cry. "It’s sometimes difficult to see what’s right in front of me."

A soft touch to his cheek forces Andy to open his eyes, in time to see Novak mouth the words ‘I love you too’ before a fleeting brush to his lips. "We can talk about this after dinner. Right now," then raises his voice to include the confused kid watching them, "we need to save the toys."


	6. Tuesday Evening, December 24, 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. Though I can tell you there is only one chapter to go!

Possibly the most important talk in his life looms and Andy is wearing a white striped jumper decorated with red glittery snowflakes. Then again, given the other person in the conversation will be wearing _blinking lights_ , seems he came out on the better end of the deal.

As it is, small talk has taken place throughout dinner. Novak, in trying not to feel homesick for his own family traditions, has been asking Kimmie about the meal. There’s ham, chestnut stuffing and turnips taken from Scottish tradition, Kimmie having been preparing turkeys at the diner for tomorrow’s meal all day.

Andy has been observing Novak eyeing the baked ziti covered in various cheeses and tomato sauce. It seems to have been made for Brayden, who hasn’t touched the ham or the turnips. It is reminding Novak of a childhood hanging around his dad’s pizzeria, Andy suspecting he’s probably gluten-free in this version as well.

Novak finally catches Andy and breaks out into a wry smile. He mutters under his breath, "You busted me."

Kimmie glances from Novak to Andy and asks, "What’d you do? Wait… do I need to cover Brayden’s ears before you answer?"

Novak chuckles. "Nothing like that. It’s the baked ziti. He knows I’m fawning over it."

Andy quickly takes a forkful of stuffing so he can’t answer, even though he’d bet his ears match the red in his jumper.

Brayden scrunches his face, trying to figure out what Novak means. He states, "It’s really good, No-lak. Just like Nana’s."

"I’m sure your Nana’s recipe is great. Just… an athlete has to be careful what he eats. Vegetables are very important," using his fork to gesture to the untouched turnips and carrots on Brayden’s plate. "A growing boy needs his vitamins so he doesn’t get tired when he’s playing."

The kid reluctantly takes a bite of the turnips, gives a disgusted reaction but keeps eating. Jamie says after Brayden’s second bite, "I hope that works on him as effectively when you leave town."

Andy says, "He can be quite convincing when he needs to be." It’s probably the most he’s actually revealed of himself since this transformation took place.

It’s not lost on Novak, who gets hilariously wide-eyed before blowing a kiss across the table toward Andy.

* * * * *

Andy offers to wash the dishes, mainly as a tactic to delay the inevitable. Novak senses that as well, approaching the kitchen once Jamie and Kimmie are safely staying in the living room. He asks, "Does what you said at the table mean what I think you mean?"

"If the knee doesn’t hold up this time, at least I can say it isn’t all about the hitting." Andy turns around, leaning against the counter, taking weight off his leg even though the knee hasn’t acted up despite yesterday’s hitting session. Maybe it’s even psychosomatic at this point, having had two years since he’d been Novak’s hitting partner.

  
"Well, yes, you would have access to the best as far as the knee goes but that’s not what I mean. We…"

"I thought I needed a clean break from tennis."

Novak lets out a sigh, then walks over and settles his hands on Andy’s waist. "In some form, tennis will always be a part of your life. I’d like to think I’ll always be a part of your life as well. No matter what gets thrown our way."

Such as Novak being engaged to Jelena. That would be a major stumbling block when he leaves here. _If_ he leaves here. With that in mind, he’d better savor this time. "I think you’ll always be a part of my life. Whether I like it or not." Andy leans in, brushing his nose against Novak’s before softly kissing Novak and backing away.

"Rotten. So so rotten. Yet I want to revisit every time because my taste is that terrible." Novak pushes his body against Andy’s, nothing teasing about how much Novak wants to devour his mouth. Andy wraps his arms over Novak’s shoulders, needing to get even closer. To feel their bodies mold together. To savor a taste he could definitely get used to having.

When he can catch his breath between kisses, Andy breathes out, "Bedroom?"

Novak glances into the sink behind Andy, which only has a few utensils left. "Lead the way, my dear."

"I could definitely get used to this."

* * * * *

The bedroom has very little decorating, even though this has supposedly become his home. That makes it so much easier to know it’s the right decision to leave.

It also makes it easy to know he’s not going to remember much about the surroundings regarding this moment. Nothing beyond the feel of a sinewy frame enveloping his body. His own fingers working as fast as possible to get the blinking light jumper off Novak before there’s an electrocution or fire possibility. Novak’s fingers enjoying tangling in Andy’s too-long hair a little too much, Andy will get a buzz cut if it means less pain when in moments like this with Novak _around the world_.

Yeah, that’s a good problem to have with a solution that means this is supposed to last. They strip off the rest of their clothing with no further issues, Andy thankful Novak is content with simply kissing and touching and savoring feeling skin. Even though they’re supposed to have experience as a couple, Andy doesn’t have any of that in his brain so it’s nice not to have to think about technical issues involving having sex with a guy. That stuff can be resolved later.

When Novak passes out with his dark coarse hair brushing Andy’s chest, Andy rests his arm on Novak’s back and cannot wait to join Novak in his travels.

As Andy falls asleep, he realizes he wants to stay involved in Novak’s life even if he wakes up and is back to being a top ten player.


	7. Wednesday Morning, December 25, 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your eyes are not deceiving you. This story is finally DONE. It only took two full years (as I started it on New Year's Eve 2013) to finish this. I appreciate everyone who has followed along and waited for the finale.

“Merry Christmas, Andy.” It’s Novak’s voice. This is good. The sound seems to be coming from the other end of the room, possibly in a door frame.

Andy opens his eyes to see an ornately decorated hotel room. The type of extravagance usually found at the tennis events in the Middle East. 

He would have paid more attention to the surroundings but he gets distracted by the sight of Novak with a bouquet of flowers and looking lost. Novak says hesitantly, “Kim told me to come over. She said you came down with a… virus?”

This is not so good news.  Andy tries not to show on his face how down he feels about that information. He needs to close his eyes and readjust to the world he'd known up to a few days ago.

"I'm guessing the back surgery went okay?  Or else you wouldn't be here."

Andy nods once.

"It'll take time.  I mean, I'm guessing as I haven't had that issue." Hands buried in the white warmup jacket, Novak trying not to fidget.  At least Andy is now aware he’s not alone in being nervous about this encounter.

“Be thankful for that,” Andy’s own voice sounding rough and unfamiliar. As if he’s had a virus.  Novak gives a quick smile but cautiously enters, pulling a chair along until he can sit at the side of the bed.  Novak is, right now, in what will be his bedroom for the next few days. This is not the least bit awkward.

Andy can already feel a wave of nausea but he must say this part first. “Congratulations on your engagement,” staring at the finger that’ll soon have a ring.

“Thank you.”

“I never really got over you.” The silence fills the room, as it takes Novak time to process there’s a deeper meaning to those words.  Yeah, between being sick in this world and the memories from the other, his mouth was doomed.

Novak lets out a few deep calming breaths, as if engaging in an impromptu mediation session. Which, given it’s Novak, might actually be the case.  Finally, he says softly, “I wish I’d known you were _ever_ into me.  I knew I _wanted_ … for so long.  But, at some point, I had to give up and move on.”

“I realize that.”

“I do love Jelena, or else I wouldn’t have taken this step. It did take time before I could be _certain_ about asking her.”

“I know.” Now that he’s actually getting a confessional from Novak, the words are impossible to get out.

“I also know you love Kim.”

“I do.”

“And that…” Novak tries to formulate the proper words for what’s next. It likely involves figuring out the English translation. “You never asked her, at least partially, because of us?”

Okay, that’s not about the translation issue. Reluctantly, he admits, “Also true.”

Novak nods along as he contemplates what to say about this revelation. He sits down on the bed, lingering over Andy before opting to lean in and kiss Andy on the forehead.   Andy reaches out to hold Novak’s shoulder, keeping him close.  In the other timeline, Novak had made every move.  Even if this is just to move on, this has to be Andy’s move as he lifts himself off the bed enough to brush his lips over Novak’s.

Andy should want to do more… but it turns out he doesn’t. This is not their path. 

Seemingly on the same wavelength, Novak says softly, “We wouldn’t have made each other happy. Eventually, the tour would’ve ruined everything.  This is the way we were meant to be.  Our future children being friends, maybe even competitive rivals.”

“Have you ever thought about what it would be like if…”

“If I’d gone to you after that trip to Australia? Yes.  But… I don’t think you would like the answer.”

Andy lets out a chuckle, debating whether to tell Novak what happened. He’ll blame the virus for what he says next, “Would you believe I just had a dream about it?”  Since nothing Novak has said leads him to think otherwise, Andy will just call this a very vivid dream.

“Does this story involve me still being number one but having a fake relationship while tagging you along despite your gimpy knee and your hate of tennis?”

Andy blurts out, “We had the _exact same dream_?!”

“I don’t know if it was exact. I had mine after I lost the US Open final.  That’s actually when I finally decided to move on and propose to Jelena.  That said, it feels so much better to know we shared that dream.  That I _could’ve_ gone through with it and not be rejected, even though the end result is one in which neither of us would’ve been happy.”

“But you got to be number one. Nothing actually changed…”

“I was alone in my joy. My family wasn’t receptive when I even mentioned maybe a little being not a hundred percent straight, Jelena was trapped, and you saw nothing but misery when watching a match.  I cannot take an alternate world where I’m living out my tennis goals and you’re completely miserable in the world of ‘could’ve been’.  We’ll always have a connection that is beyond tennis but you found your personal connection and that’s from a pretty blonde who saw you when you had that ridiculous afro going on.”

Andy lets out a snort, then says, “You have a point. A pretty brunette saw something beyond a spiky brillo head, after all.”

Novak laughs heartily at that, then says, “I’d better go before I really do get sick from you. The fact I sacrificed _this much_ time around you should tell you how much I love ya.”  He kisses his palm and blows it Andy’s way.

“Love ya, too,” snagging the toss, “Hopefully, I’ll be seeing you oncourt. Merry Christmas, Nole.”

“Merry Christmas, Andy. Go back to sleep.  You’ll feel better.”  

Novak smiles brightly then turns toward the door. He has almost exited when Andy mutters, “I already do.”


End file.
